


Two Juvenile Delinquents Named Ray

by cmshaw



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, teen!rays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-22
Updated: 2003-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmshaw/pseuds/cmshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You look chicken to me," Ray said, laughing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Juvenile Delinquents Named Ray

I reached out and grabbed Ray's hand as he bent over the sink, coughing. "Watch the fucking joint," I said, and he lifted his hand up, pushing me away with his other hand and swallowing the next cough. He pulled a face and looked like he was working up the balls to take another drag, so I held his hand still and put my mouth on the end of the joint to inhale my own hit. He got me on the side of the jaw with his knuckles, but I got a mouthful of smoke and backed off again.

Ray leaned against the wall behind the sink, laughing. If any teachers walked by we were so fucking dead, not that any of the old sticks would know pot from grass growing on the stupid football field but smoking _anything_ was detention at least. I couldn't help it, though -- he set me off, and I was laughing too, gasping for more sweet sticky air around chuckles.

He cupped the joint with both hands to hold it steady. "What -- the hell's -- so funny -- Ray?" he asked me, and I just shook my head.

"History class," I offered, and Ray doubled over again.

"History class!" he squeaked. A deep breath, and he had a killer impression of Mr. Brover going. "Raymond Kowalski," he intoned, looking down his long nose at me, "young man, I expect _respect_ in this classroom!" I sniggered. "Young man -- oh shit," he said, and rushed at me, knocking me back toward the stalls. I backpedaled as fast as I could, and Ray handed off the joint and put both hands on the stall door, swinging it closed behind us. We held our breaths.

Someone shuffled in, sneezed, and sat down in the stall next to us. Brown corduroys hit the tiled floor and whoever it was grunted in relief. I felt like I was turning blue; I let out my air as silently as I could and hauled in a new lungful to hold. When Ray did the same, it sounded horrifyingly loud. I shuffled carefully behind the toilet to hide my shoes.

Ray looked over at me, and I mouthed: "Constipation?" He turned bright red trying not to laugh, and mimed punching me. I put up my dukes and cut back at him, and finally the doofus in the next stall finished his business and pulled his pants up again. Ray and I were giggling before the bathroom door clunked shut behind him, giddy with relief. I held up the joint for Ray and he put his mouth against my fingers to suck the last wisp of smoke in -- when he opened his mouth I dropped the embers into the can and shook my hand where I'd burned it a little. Ray blew out in a dark cloud and I leaned up next to him, putting my cheek on his and trying to breath it back in. We were the same height again this week. Sometimes it seemed like we were racing up through high school an inch of height at a time. I was busting out of the seams of my cheap old sneakers but I had a brand new black jacket that I wore to class instead of leaving it in my locker. Ray's clothes always fit, but I was the one with the pocket money for the pot.

When Ray put his hand on his balls, we were so close together that his wrist rubbed up on me too.

"Shit," he said, jerking his hand away.

I laughed. It was easy to laugh and grab his hand and put it back; the pot did that, kept everything easy. "Go for it," I whispered loudly. "Go on. No one can see."

"No way!" Ray whispered back.

I put my back against the stall door and smirked at him. "Chicken?" I asked, and popped my own fly. "You even got to third base with Irene yet?" Ray glared at me. We both knew that he hadn't, and that I _had_ with Stella. I breathed smoky air at him and grinned.

Ray had me up against the corner of the stall before I saw him moving, and I thrashed out but couldn't budge him. Fuck. _Pinned_. I kept goddamned forgetting what neighborhood he grew up in. Ray put his bare hand on my prick where it was poking up out of my underwear and grinned. "Chicken?" he asked, and jerked me.

I gritted my teeth. "Ain't chicken," I said.

"You look chicken to me," Ray said, laughing, and I grabbed his hand and moved it faster. Fuck, it was only Ray, Ray fucking Vecchio with his spiffy collared shirts and face much too pretty to be a baby gangster, and I laughed back at him, getting jizz all over his hand as I got myself off on it.

Gasping, I let his hand go. "Ain't _chicken_," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck," Ray said, fighting one-handed with his pants. I took pity on him and pulled down his zipper. He wiggled his hips at me and I pulled out his dick, too, holding it in my hand and looking at it. I mean, I'd seen it before, but I'd never _looked_ at it. Experimentally I gave him a tug, and then another one when he closed his eyes and bit his lip. He kept getting harder as I was touching him. I let go, and he looked down and took over jerking himself with his clean hand. He put his other hand down and caught his own jizz with mine. It was weird in a way that made my ears ring and made me want to jerk off again, in private where no one knew what I was thinking about.

Ray turned around fast, but I could see that his ears were bright red. He unrolled huge handfuls of toilet paper and cleaned his hand off. "We're really late for class," he said.

"You want to go to class?" I said. "I thought we were going to try and get into the lunchroom."

Ray's face was still red when he turned around. "I don't know--"

"You _chicken_?" I said.

"You're an asshole," he said. "You got it all over my _hand_," he added.

"You put your hand there in the first place, you idiot," I said. "Come on, lunch was an hour ago. I'm starving." I reached out and flushed the toilet, watching the wad of toilet paper and the ashes of our joint swirl away. "Wash your hand and let's go."

"If we get caught it was your idea," Ray grumbled, and I high-fived his clean hand.


End file.
